


To The Top Of The Slide Down

by liketogetlost



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 05:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketogetlost/pseuds/liketogetlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wakes up in her own bed after a long, deep sleep and blushes a bright pink over the steam of her tea when she remembers mumbling something about "no knickers" against his throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To The Top Of The Slide Down

**Author's Note:**

> (Or Three times the Doctor didn't hit on Rose while drunk)

**&**. He might forget the white hot heat of her hand on the back of his neck, the intricate unique pattern of her fingerprints a brand on his skin. Might not remember how her hips swayed in time with his own, how their breath came in tandem with her stomach pushing out when his sunk in, his jumper scratching the bit of exposed tummy her blouse failed in covering. When he woke up the next morning he might not recall that dancing with Rose Tyler after a few drinks is like playing a sort of Russian roulette. Each step and dip another pull of the trigger, bringing him closer to the inevitable spark of gunpowder that would be their collision.

She wakes up in her own bed after a long, deep sleep and blushes a bright pink over the steam of her tea when she remembers mumbling something about "no knickers" against his throat.

 **&**. He's rather pissed, she's rather not.

"You're rather drunk, aren't you?" Two Roses, make that one, just blurred over times two, speak to him, cheeky grin on their, _her_ face.

 _You're rather **gorgeous** , aren't you?_ No, can't say that. What was her question?

"No! Time Lords can hold their liquor, all have you know. 'M just a bit tipsy, is all." He's speaking much slower than usual, this he is aware of.

She laughs, and he hears bells. His lips curve into a pleased grin, and he asks her to do it again.

"What are you talking about?"

"Make the bells chime, Rose!" And she does! How wonderful!

He wants to say something, almost does, bloody alcohol loosening his already loose lips but he stops himself. _Perfect, lovely, Rose with the chiming bells for a laugh. Your skirt is too bloody long tonight._

"Come on, you lump." She holds him up, arm under his arm, under his jacket. They stumble more because he insists on holding her free hand all the way to the TARDIS.

 **&**. The charmed time, the third, he doesn't have to do anything at all. 

Both silly with drink, she downs more courage than he does and it's inevitable. Takes a swig of his pint, licking the foam from his lips and before he can swallow she's licking it from his tongue. Click, and the gunpowder sparks.

\--


End file.
